April Reading List

Only five books read this month which is a low number for me. Perhaps because they were all books I own and I didn't feel the need to get them read and back to the library.

September by Rosamunde Pilcher - I became a fan of Pilcher's when I worked at Graham Group. There was another woman there who really loved The Shell Seekers and either loaned me her copy or talked about it so much I bought my own copy. I loved it as well as September. The book came out in 1990 which I'm certain is when I bought and read my copy. After thirty years, there was not one thing I remembered about this book, so it was like reading it for the first time. It is a well crafted tale with a multitude of characters, but so well drawn that they were easy to keep track of. I enjoyed re-reading this novel.

There's No Place Like Here by Cecilia Ahern - I remember buying my first Ahern book, PS, I Love You, to take along on a trip. I became an instant fan. When I took this book out of the box of stored books it was in such pristine condition I wondered if I had ever read it. Again, I did not remember one thing about this novel, but I loved re-reading it. There is a reason it made it into my saved books boxes.

A Question Of Blood by Ian Rankin - Rankin became one of my favorite authors and his character, Inspector John Rebus, one of my favorite detectives. We binge watched all the Rebus TV episodes we could this month, so I just 'had' to re-read one of the books they were based upon. Loved the series as much as the books, but I had one problem - the actor playing Rebus on TV was not as good looking as I had imagined the book Rebus. But after watching the series, I could only 'see' the actor while reading the book. I could not get back the good-looking inspector. 

An Independent Woman by Howard Fast was my least favorite book this month. I think it is possible it was in my saved books because I hadn't read it yet rather than because it was a favorite. I almost quit reading it because of its gossipy writing style. It was just too implausible.

Sarah's Window by Janice Graham is a book I remembered reading. It is set in the Flint Hills of  Chase County, Kansas just as her first book, Firebird, was. I loved Firebird so much I bought copies to give to other people. Sarah's Window isn't quite that compelling for me, but I did thoroughly enjoy reading it again. Graham has a talent for what I would term ethereal writing. This was my favorite read of the month.

The Many Moods of April

Spring Will Be A Little Late This Year was a song that debuted during my first spring 76 years ago. I don't know if the spring season was really late in 1944, but it certainly has been this year.

The month arrived nice enough on the 1st to enjoy a trip to Green Valley where I was excited to see a flock of coots - the first time I had ever seen so many at one time.

And the first Daffodils were blooming.

Two days later, I was delighted by the rare appearance of a white heron. Note the snow along the edge of the pond. The heron stayed all day, huddled against the cold.

The 5th was another nice day, warm and still at Lake McKinley.

The 8th was so nice the tree trimmers working in the neighborhood were in their shirtsleeves.

 

And the Magnolias were blossoming out.

Sunset on the 10th was gorgeous - a brilliant pink ball.

The next day, the green, green grass got its first mow.

Oh, the fickleness of spring - April 15 and snow, not just a little, a lot!

But the sun came out four hours later and highlighted this snowy spider web.

And the pale greening of the Willow tree.

More snow fell on the 16th.........

.....piling up on everything by the morning of the 17th.

But by mid-morning on the 18th, the snow was almost gone. Daffodils were lifting their bowed heads; peonies were sprouting.

On the 19th I saw the first turkey buzzard - their return a 'verifiable' sign of spring.

Inside the house, three blooms on the Peachy Keen Verbena delighted me on the 22nd.

As did a neighbor's pretty red tulips outdoors.

A little bouquet of Violets is one of my favorites. I brought these inside on the 24th. The yard was full of purple blooms.

Strong winds on the 25th were shredding the 'paper' of the Birch trees.

April's New Moon occurred on Earth Day, the 22nd, but I didn't get a picture of it until the 25th.

More birds are coming to feed. This isn't the best photo of this cardinal pair, taken through the window on the evening of the 26th, but I really like the composition of  with the two of them perched in the budding oak tree.

We finally got to see this year's hatchling - that's right, only one - the morning of the 27th. Mama keeps a close watch, as does Papa Goose, just out of the frame.

The signs of spring are coming faster now......Purple Martins checking out a neighborhood house.....

.......this little toad? frog? uncovered while raking leaves.

And last of the 27th, the New Moon and Venus together in the late evening sky.

First sign of spring pic early yesterday, the 28th, was one of this little tree frog on the patio. It surprised me when I was going out to feed the birds.

A few minutes later I saw this young deer at the salt block; posed perfectly with the plum blossoms in the hedgerow behind.

Then I took this closeup of one of the first  Baltimore Orioles to arrive which had been on the feeder.

As well as this one of a gorgeous Orchard Oriole ready for a sweet sip.

There's just something about catkins in the spring. The lower ones on the Paper Birch tree seem to be dancing over the pond.

The wind began blowing hard overnight. This morning it was sending the low hanging clouds scudding off to the southwest as the sunrise turned distant cumulus clouds cherry blossom pink.

I am always thrilled to see the Indigo Bunting. It is hard to believe such a beautiful bird comes to the deck to eat. It is very skittish, so the only photos I get of it are through the window and screen.

The same is true for this pair of Cowbirds.

Heads up - that little gosling is already growing fast.

As surprised as I was by the Indigo Bunting this morning, I was really caught off guard when the little female Ruby-throated Hummingbird showed up at the Oriole feeder this afternoon. I didn't think they came back this early.

Today was the day we planned to go to Red Haw State Park to see the many Redbud trees there. Alas, the freezing temps and snow spoiled the Redbud display and our plans -just as the Covid-19 pandemic has changed all our lives this spring.

But whether it comes early or late or right on time, Spring arrives in all its many moods. The trees bud, the blossoms bloom and the birds arrive, just as they do every April - for which I am grateful.

Mud Rooms and Back Porches

Woke up a little after 4:00 a.m., trying to go back to sleep when I began thinking about my granddaughter's new mudroom.

I had seen pictures of it in progress and finished, but was looking forward to seeing it when we went to great-granddaughter Brynley's birthday party last month. I just couldn't visualize the changes made at the back entrance. I needed to see it in person. Unfortunately, I was suffering the effects of spring allergies, plus the additional threat due to the coronavirus outbreak, so I'll be waiting a little longer to see her wonderful new addition.

Mudrooms seem to be a big deal in new and newly remodeled homes right now. I can totally understand the desire/need for them. Especially with a family. A mudroom would help contain the chaos of coats, boots, shoes, sports equipment, etc. upon entering the house and keep it from spreading dirt and clutter any further.

I started thinking how nice a mudroom would have been in our home when I was growing up. Then I realized we had one! It was called the back porch.

I barely remember what it was like when I was little. That's the doorway and some covered over windows of the back porch of our farm house in the background. I remember isinglass windows instead of real glass panes and tar paper over the door and windows, though in this pic, it looks more like cardboard.

I don't remember what year the real windows were installed, probably after the war years (WWII) when money and supplies were more plentiful. The door to the outside was new, too. It had two separate parts, one a screen section for warm weather and the other with glass panes for cold weather. There was a special rack suspended from the rafters in the wash house to hold the off-season door insert and keep it safe until time to switch them out again. (Built by Dad, I assume.)

More than half of the floor space on the back porch was a flat 'cellar' door to the basement. It was seldom open until the basement was finished, then it was always open, secured by a bent wire hook so it wouldn't fall on anyone.

The walls had double rows of hooks, ones high up for Mom and Dad's coats and coveralls, lower ones for us kids. Mops, brooms, flyswatters, yardsticks and other miscellaneous tools also hung on the porch. There was a permanent built in broom hanger in which Mom's 'good' broom always hung.

Hanging on nails under the windows were the egg basket, milk buckets, and water bucket. The coal bucket and cob basket sat on the floor along with the ubiquitous slop bucket - the pail that held potato, carrot and apple peels, grapefruit and orange rinds and anything else that the pigs might possibly eat in their swill.

Floor space was also used up by all the everyday shoes and boots of a family of six. If you think that back porch didn't keep a lot of dirt and clutter out of the house, you should have had to clean it every week or so.

I am certain Katrina loves her new mudroom and can't imagine it ever being as dirty as our psuedo one, but I don't see how we could have managed without the old back porch.

Common, Everyday Lives

Spotting the first plum blossoms in the hedgerow thickets provides a peculiar pleasure for me.

"As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common, everyday blessings of our everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful." 
     ~Laura Ingalls Wilder~

Nature and Art and Poetry

...and then I have nature and art and poetry,  and if that is not enough, what is enough? (Vincent Van Gogh)

I never had any artisitic talent which may or may not explain my interest in art. As a teen, I began checking out books about art at the library and familiarizing myself with artists and their paintings.
I have gradually learned about artists whose works I didn't care for as well as the ones I admired.

Winslow Homer (1836-1910) was one I appreciated and learned about.

When I heard his name, I thought about paintings like these,  The Fog Warning and

Breezing Up A Fair Wind which was used on a 4c stamp in 1962. In other words, pictures featuring seascapes and sailors and dark colors.

This morning, thanks to my daily jigsaw puzzling, I learned he painted much more than dark paintings of men and the sea.

I loved the pinks, grays and soft blues and greens of his Girl With Laurel. So once the puzzle was completed I went in search of more of his artwork and realized how varied his subject matter and mediums were. These are just a 'few' of the ones that caught my eye.

The West Wind

Snap the Whip - This one was familiar to me, but I did not remember it as a Winslow painting.

Crossing the Pasture

Of course what do you see when crossing the pasture but Cow In Pasture?

During the Civil War he was sent by Harper's Weekly to sketch battle scenes and camp life. The Sharpshooter On Picket Duty is a painting of that time.

Beach scenes were also the subject of many of his works. This one, On the Beach, Marshfield. One of my classmates/friend had a home there. I wonder if Linda had this same view?

I particularly like this one, Old Friends - tree lover that I am.

Girl On A Swing

Houses On A Hill makes me think of a Wyeth painting; no wonder, N.C. Wyeth was a student of Homer's.

Morning Glories

The Butterfly Girl

Even one titled The Turkey Buzzard - something under discussion earlier this week.

I am drawn to the darker paintings. Look what he does with light in this one: Twilight At Leeds, NY.

So many paintings; so little time.

Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time. (Thomas Merton)